


Catching Up With Old Friends

by IsisKitsune



Series: Twilight is for Sookers [107]
Category: Morbius: The Living Vampire, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Android Jarvis (Iron Man movies), BAMF Claire Temple, Blood Drinking, Claire Temple Deserves Better, Dark Past, Gun Violence, M/M, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Panic, Past Child Abuse, Precognition, Second Chances, Shooting, Temporary Character Death, addiction/rehab mentioned, drug users mentioned, the call of the void, withdraw mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 01:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19162798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsisKitsune/pseuds/IsisKitsune
Summary: It was just supposed to be another day... another annoyingly stupid day. Kids getting bumps and bruise/occasional breaks, people not watching where the fuck they were driving, people slipping and backsliding in their progress... Just another fucking day. One of the annoying types that just make you want to smack someone and scream at them "Where is your common sense?!" types of days...Then he heard "Dr. Morbius" and saw the gun-Fuck, his father's work was still haunting him





	Catching Up With Old Friends

Something was making Michael's skin crawl, he just shrugged it off as the obvious tweaker scratching at her arms, making the smell of drug contaminated blood heavier when her nails dug deeper, “Stop that or I'm restraining you,” he barked at her, well past the point of annoyance.

“Look, doc, just hook me up with some methadone and I'll be gone.”

“Get your ass back to rehab where it belongs, you can't do this alone. And that guy that came in with you? He's tweaking too, he ain't helping you clean up.”

“I just... needed to take the edge off...” she mumbled, great now he was going to deal with the sob story... he was in no fucking mood, he was on edge for some fucking reason and he couldn't figure it the fuck out.

Michael shoved away, after implementing restraints until she started to settle down, “How much did you get your hands on?”

“Didn't... wasn't stupid.”

“Yeah, an addict skipping out on rehab in the middle of detox? I'm surprised you didn't OD.”

“I wasn't bein' stupid... I just, needed to take the edge off, had to skip out on curfew. They wouldn't let me back in.”

Michael glared toward the waiting room, “You both from the same center?”

She nodded, “Yeah-”

“You're staying until they're contacted, and if either of you run you're on your own.”

She nodded, “Can, can ya let me up?”

“I will once they get your methadone. Just hang tight.”

Michael rubbed his eyes as he got the ball rolling for her to go back into the program, at least she was smelling like she was starting to go through withdraw rather than still being completely under the spell of the drug. He blinked at the feeling of the hairs raising on his arms, Madame Butterfly was rushing to him, “Red ball,” she drug the others away as she stared at him with tears in her eyes. “I'm sorry...”

Red ball? Michael's eyes dated toward the ER entrance when he remembered the reference, sudden spur of the moment decision on murder.

“Dr. Morbius,” he blinked at the blonde male walking in, raising the pistol at him, “This is for Sarah.”

Michael blinked at those blue/green eyes, red rimmed and wild, and he remembered seeing those same eyes, in his room, in the face of a scared little girl crying until she fell asleep. Sarah, her name had been Sarah. “I'm sorry,” was all he could say when the man dropped surveillance photos of his father pulling the little girl away from a parking lot. He never realized how much like his father he looked until he heard the gun ring out. He was suddenly on his back, staring at panicked faces, spine- his spine was damaged, low enough down he could move his fingers but still high enough he couldn't control his diaphragm, couldn't feel his lungs moving, or his legs. Claire was over him, he couldn't tell her what was wrong, all he could feel was burning high in his chest and his ears were still ringing, probably from shock when his brain was already aware of exactly what had happened.

When he heard his heart slow suddenly he realized his mistake, he wasn't moving his fingers, the misfiring nerve endings from the spinal damage was and the burning in his chest was resonating pain his brain supplied him from the impact site. Fuck, his heart was stopping, he was paralyzed from at least the neck down, and now his vision was starting to haze from lack of oxygen as he blinked and looked above his head. “I must say, I have missed you a bit. Though I am so glad to see those you've sent my way lately have been singing your praises rather than condemning you.”

He blinked a few more times at the robed figure, _“I know you...”_

“All know Death dear, it's only a matter of time before they meet her.”

Fuck, he couldn't remember seeing this figure before, the last time he'd been shot. _“I can hold my breath a long time.”_

“I know, dear, it's why I'm staying here. But you are calling my name even now. Perhaps this time you may even remember me.”

He remembered a woman, sitting beside his bed when he was little and post surgery, singing to him... he'd just assumed the woman was wearing a burqa since he knew a nice nurse that told him about it when he'd asked. _“I remember you..”_

Things were starting to get more distant as he saw her step forward and reach a skeletal hand out to him, “They can't fix it this time.”

“Clear,” rang out clear as day when he tried to reach for the hand. He blinked and felt himself gasp, when a jolt went through him, his hand passing through hers as she tilted her head at him. “Come on, kid, just please, hold on a little longer.”

“ _You don't know Claire, she'll keep trying.”_ Michael's eyes snapped open when he finally registered the taste of blood, jerking away and twisting.

“Easy, kid you're gonna tear out my wrist, just drink. It's okay it's controlled.”

Michael grabbed the arm in front of him, pulling his teeth away to gasp for air and sat up, waking up...

Peter shot upright, “What's wrong?” He was rubbing at his eyes as Michael panted and shook his head, “Bad dream?”

“Yeah, I'm, I'mma get a drink, I'm thirsty. Just, go back to sleep, just- regular nightmare, not- not my past. Just, too many hours at work or something. Go back to sleep,” Michael shuffled out of bed and drank water until he could stop the craving and cramping in his stomach.

Peter was still awake and worried when he got back into bed, “What was it about?”

Michael shook his head, “Just- red ball... you had to make me watch that fucking movie when I was half asleep.”

Peter gave a somewhat relieved laugh, “Seriously, Morbie? That- that movie is just, it's not even worth a dream much less a nightmare.”

“Tell me about it,” Michael grumbled, heart still pounding as he snuggled up to Peter and tried to pretend to be sleeping.

 

 

When Michael walked into the ER he blinked at Madame Butterfly walking toward a bed, “Hey, weren't you off today?”

She blinked then smiled and nodded, “Yeah, but Dani had a birthday party she really wanted to go to, so I switched her shifts.”

Michael nodded, “Yeah, just make sure she remembers to pay up.”

He gave a somewhat relieved laugh when she beamed and cheerfully went about working, spirit successfully raised. Then, later in the shift, he caught sight of a tweaker in the waiting room when he had to grab some coffee at the reception while they were waiting for the station's pot to refill. A chill crept up his spine when he saw the woman sitting on the bed when he got back, itching at her arms so bad she'd started to draw blood until Claire caught it and put her in restraints- he took a deep breath when he heard her talking about missing curfew and being kicked out of the center for it... He took a deep breath, paranoia- just paranoia, shake the fucking dream off!

By the time he'd settled himself, he saw Madame Butterfly rushing toward him, he just held up a hand, “Red ball,” he whispered, her eyes widened as she nodded. “Claire knows what to do.”

Michael turned toward the entrance at “Dr. Morbius.”

“If you're going to punish me for my father's sins,” Michael stomped forward, barely blinking when it was a revolver raised toward him and not a pistol, “Do it right this time,” he guided the gun to his heart. The last one was only a .22 pistol and hit him in the throat, this one was at least a .45... That should be enough to do it.

He didn't expect those wild eyes to suddenly blink, and the rage to fade, “You- you're father?”

Michael felt the gun trembling against his chest, but knew a revolved took a harder squeeze to fire without the hammer already cocked back, “Yeah, you didn't really think I was the same man, from nearly twenty years ago, did you?”

Those eyes darted to the photos scattered on the floor, and Michael already had the cylinder cocked to the side and bullets scattered to the floor when he slammed the ejector rod back. “That isn't you?”

“No, it was my father. If it makes you feel any better, his death was painful and slow.”

“What- what happened to him?”

Michael winced, “He forgot to feed one of his lab specimens, it ate him alive when it got loose.”

The man seemed to finally realize he was still holding the gun and dropped it, with a punched out laugh, “Karma... Do- shit you woulda been what? Of course it wasn't you... Did you, do you know what happened to her?”

Michael's eyes glazed over a little as he blinked and kicked the gun away, “She- she was cremated.”

“There's, not even a body?”

“No, he- he never left bodies unless he was never coming back.”

“What, what happened to her though, do you know?”

Michael stepped back when the officers finally came forward to grab the perp, “Yeah, I- I remember what happened to her. You- you don't want that in your head. Trust me.”

“Was, was it at least quick?”

Michael closed his eyes, “She- she cried, she cried until she fell asleep and then she'd wake up and do it again. I- I don't know how long it was until... but, it was quick- once the lab specimen became hungry. One bite, snapped neck. No awareness of pain after that. Just, drifting until the end.” Like you had done to me, hung in his head even though he never said it.

“You, you knew then, and you didn't help her?”

“I couldn't,” Michael blinked to try to clear the water clouding his vision, “I was the lab specimen. I couldn't help anyone from my cage. No matter how hard I tried...” Michael stepped back from the confused look, knowing he would either lunge for him or relax and let the cops take him, “It's.... it's why I help now. I never could help before, but now, I can. My way of making up for my father's sins.”

Michael was left shaking when the police pulled the man away, jerking when Madame Butterfly rushed him to hug him, “You... it was absolute, how- how did you change it?”

Michael shook his head, “I don't know, I just- I saw it before you said anything. I knew it was an absolute- I saw and felt everything, but- it didn't happen. It didn't happen.”

Michael snagged the bracelets off his wrists, handing them to her, before his eyes trained on the sight he'd experienced the night before. She wasn't there, not for him, but he knew she was there when he saw the shadow Claire shout something and holding paddles, he blinked when his shadow gasped and fought against the taste of blood after Claire had slit her own arm to force feed him fresh blood... “Michael?” He blinked at Madame Butterfly, she was trying to get the bracelets back on his wrists, “Put them back on, you don't want to see how it could have ended.”

“I died, I died, flat line, unresponsive for 5 minutes. Claire, Claire brought me back. I know how it ended, I- I experienced the whole thing. What I don't understand is, Claire was my absolute... She- I've never seen her shadow here before, only her. What changed?”

“I don't know how your curse works, but- universes change all the time. And new ones spring up whenever something new happens.”

Michael jerked when a hand patted his shoulder, “You're going home, we've shut down the ER until we can get someone in to cover it. Until then we've got doctors pulled to take care of active patients.”

“How long is my exile this time?”

“Take some time, let us know when you're ready to come back after at least a few days.”

Michael sighed as he got up, unsure of when he'd ended up sitting on the floor and slid the bracelets back onto his wrists, “Okay...”

Claire hugged him as she led him out the back, “Go home, kid, get some sleep... hug your husband and your kid...”

Michael blinked, he could have sworn he heard someone singing softly, “Someone's singing... She's got a nice voice.” Michael was smiling when he recognized who was singing. “She's always had a nice voice.”

“Michael, come on, the cab's here, let's get you home.”

“Yeah, home,” Michael mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. Claire got him into the back of the cab, heading home. He automatically mumbled a thanks and paid the fare when he got back to the Penthouse before forgoing the elevator and just floating up to be let in through one of the windows by a panicked looking Jarvis, “I'm okay. Thanks for not slamming the panic button this time.”

Jarvis grabbed him and held him tight, “I- I am sorry that I didn't, he could have- you could have-”

“I'm okay, Jarvis. I- I would have been okay even if he did.”

Jarvis took a deep breath before stepping back, “Xir is still away a the school, I- I didn't wish to worry Xir until- until I had an update on the situation. And, Peter had only just arrived back from patrol and looked a bit worse for wear so I- I let him continue sleeping.”

Michael grabbed him in a hug, “You did everything right, Jarvis, everything. Thank you.”

Jarvis tried to protest but Michael just lead him back to the bedroom to climb in to hug his confused husband, “Huh? Shit, you're back? J, why didn't you wake me up, gonna be late for work.”

“No, sir, he- he's back early, you still have plenty of time before your alarm.”

Peter seemed to relax when he saw it was still night, “Oh, what happened?”

“Just, bad day, no one hurt, just- really bad day. Got sent home.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just... I had a heads up- no one was hurt. Just, definitely a scare. I'm fine.”

Peter was drifting, “Gonna talk in the morning...”

Michael just nodded, Peter wasn't coherent enough to remember this, or at least he honestly hoped he wouldn't. Jarvis held him tighter, “I'm okay.”

“We will be discussing this after rest and recovery.” Michael just nodded and finally started crashing from the adrenaline.

 


End file.
